( she's well aware of baby's gaze often straying to her side profile, but she's struck by the miniature city cast before them, like figurines of a place far too good to be true. a city who's energy thrived upon intimacy? a means of credits to earn a second chance, something the two of them both wanted, even if for entirely separate reasons. it's then it hits her, softly through quite noticeably at the center of her chest that, at the moment, there's no one she'd rather be atop that mountain with than him.

a tiny shrug of a single shoulder. ) Only a little. It feels good, actually. ( but yes, baby, she's not any bit disinterested in the idea of taking your jacket. a slow breath inward, as if she could exhale everything she's kept pent up, everything that's forbidden her from just this— quiet, and peace. )

I think this is the first time I've felt comfortable here, in Cadelle.